Facing the Past 19
by sarapals with past50
Summary: Continues "A Few Days" series: A story that continues the family life of Sara and Gil Grissom. A letter arrives with a request, and Sara fights her own past to answer the request.
1. Chapter 1

_A/N: We continue our story of Sara and Gil Grissom and their family. Enjoy!_

**Facing the Past: Chapter 1**

Sara Sidle Grissom knew this day was coming. For ten years, she had lived with a certain dread knowing a letter, a lawyer, or a woman would arrive with all the legal words to break her heart. She held the oversized envelope and smoothed the document it brought with her hand. She went to find her husband.

Noise from the porch filtered throughout the house as happy voices giggled and talked—sounds from her daughters. Even as the contents of the letter weighed on her thoughts, she smiled. They had a happy home.

Some days she had to stop to realize this was her life, her family who laughed and loved and protected each other, who had grown from babies to toddlers to children in a blink of an eye. They would all become teenagers—one already was—in a few years. She pushed open the door to see three girls engrossed in books, reading to each other in exaggerated voices that made it difficult to determine if what they read was comedy or drama.

"Hi, Mom!" One said, her dark hair and smile giving her a strong resemblance to Sara.

The other two added their own greeting. All three had the blue eyes of their father, but two had his smile, his curly hair, a feminine replica of his form, even the enigmatic look he gave. More often than not Sara had to laugh at the influence of genes on the appearances of four of her children. One daughter with dark hair was all she could claim.

"Where's your dad?" She asked.

Rapidly, three hands waved in the same direction. "Eli and Will are with him" one of the twins called as she left the porch and heard one return to reading from her book.

They had so many halcyon days, she thought, as she watched clouds trail across a blue sky. These peaceful days were so unlike the ones of her own childhood, so difficult, so turbulent; the cycle of abuse could be broken. Her family was proof.

The doors to the large barn-like structure were open and she could see three figures moving around inside. The building was no barn—no animals other than a dog and several cats ever entered the place. Her husband had built it for his projects; beekeeping, garden supplies, bug collections, a dozen other experiments, and now this current project.

A large brown dog trotted to meet her. A cat stretched lazily in the edge of sunlight at the doorway.

"Mom!" The smallest figure ran to meet her. Will, her youngest, was a miniature of Gil Grissom, and still young enough to wrap arms around her waist in an enthusiastic hug. "We are making lots of progress! Wait til you see!" He continued to chatter about what they were working on and by the time both arrived inside the building, her husband and older son were wiping hands and waiting.

"How's it going?" She asked, knowing the answer as she watched smiles appear on faces. They responded by talking at once, pointing to various groupings of parts and pieces on tables and on the floor.

"At one time your mom could take a car apart faster than any man around," said her husband, referring to a time before any of the children were born.

Sara laughed, saying, "Taking apart, not putting together."

The most recent project was an old car, purchased from its previous owner who had grown tired of having it in pieces in his garage. Now, the floor, countertops, and tables were strewed with parts, some recognizable, but most were odd metal objects, bolts, screws, and fasteners in various shapes and sizes.

"Warm cookies in the kitchen—ready to eat," Sara said. "Enough for everyone."

The two boys took off in a run. The older boy, Eli, slowed after a short sprint for his brother to catch up. Their parents watched as Eli wrapped arms around Will and lifted the smaller boy from the ground. Eli had grown into the lanky frame of his father—Warrick Brown, his father, had died in Vegas and his birth mother had given him to the Grissom's when she left the country a decade ago.

Sara and Gil Grissom had adopted Eli but kept in touch with his biological mother. Several times a year, photos were sent along with a letter. Tina Brown seldom replied, having a new family half way around the world.

A hand circled Sara's waist. "What's up?" Grissom knew she held an envelope. He saw the worried look in her eyes.

She sighed and held the letter up for him to see. "I knew this day would come. She wants to meet Eli."

His hand tightened around her. He said, "We have kept that option open. He's our son—she can't change that."

Sara's voice wavered. "I'm afraid she will want him—or he will want her."

Grissom read the letter, pulling his wife against his chest as he did. "Sara, he'll make the right decision. You know that." He felt a slight movement of her head against his neck as he turned to face her and their lips met. He loved this woman. After all these years, he still kissed her like a lover bringing a low sound from her throat.

Placing palms on his chest, she broke the kiss and moved a hand to his face. "It scares me to death," she said.

"There is no need. He's been our son for ten years. She's a stranger to him."

"She's his real mother."

He knew nothing he said would halt her fears. Instead, he said, "Let's go tell everyone." He grinned. "We'll be lucky to have a few crumbs left."

By the time they returned to the house, five children had consumed everything on the plate with the exception of two cookies. Ava, one of the twins, was circling the plate with a damp finger. Grissom pulled his young daughter to his side as he sat at the table.

Sara pushed the plate to Grissom. She could not eat, but watched as her husband and daughter laughed and ate the last two cookies.

He was a lucky man, Gil Grissom thought. He had been fifty years old before he realized happiness was not wrapped around work, and in a few years, went from a life as a loner to a husband and father to five happy, well adjusted children. He smiled at his wife as she faced him across the table—concern about this letter etched across her face.


	2. Chapter 2

**Facing the Past: Chapter 2**

…Eli's green eyes widened as his mother read the letter. "Do I have to meet her?" He asked.

Sara's eyes met Grissom's.

He said, "Think about it. I—I think you should."

Eli turned to Sara. "Mom?"

"You decide, Eli." The thirteen year old was almost her height now. In another year, he would be taller—she smiled as she touched his face. He was so much like his father—his eyes, his long slim fingers, the grin that broke across his face with his thoughts and as he teased his sisters.

"Can all of us meet her?" He asked. The four people he considered his sisters and brother sat around the table, unusually quiet.

Sara was not surprised at his question. The children were so close, so alike in many ways but she had not thought of the impact on them. Grissom often quoted Alexandre Dumas' line from _The Three Musketeers_, "all for one, one for all" when he talked about his children.

They lived in an isolated farming community with a group of nuns as neighbors and parents older than average who wrote books and researched bugs. Sara knew her children were considered a force of five in the local school. The children had friends, seemed to be well liked by others, participated in various activities, but they were best friends as well as siblings. She and Grissom had grown up too fast—intelligent children thrown into an adult world. Both were determined to prevent a similar life for their own children.

With Eli's question, Sara looked at Grissom. He shook his head. "The letter asks for a meeting with you but we will ask. And we can all go—spend a day in the city, spend the night and be tourists."

Eli smiled, worry left his face. "Tell her I'll meet her and I want her to meet my sisters." His hand swiped across Will's curls, "and my little brother!"

…Grissom succeeded in setting up a meeting as Eli requested. The attorney stated the biological parent wanted to talk to Eli, but she agreed to meet the family.

"He needs to meet her," Grissom said. "He has watched the video of Warrick, and while he's never questioned his adoption, he should see her—talk to her."

Sara worried as she reluctantly made plans. Even a short day trip meant planning, and an overnight trip added layers to the list. At least their neighbors were willing to look after the dog and the cats, even stay in the house if needed.

The children's excitement seemed to over ride any apprehension or concerns they had, but Sara knew they talked. She watched as each packed a small bag; they had learned to travel light, sharing certain items, and were more excited about a trip to the city than meeting a stranger.

…Bizzy knew her mother was upset; anxiety and uncertainty remained on her face even as she laughed and took care of them. Few things occurred that slipped by Bizzy's acute observations. Her mother said it was a gift; her dad would smile, calling it a family trait. She did not talk as much as her sisters and her two brothers were busy following their dad to notice what else was happening.

Bizzy knew when her mom worried—about one of them, or about a deadline for a book or when her dad was thinking about a new project. She knew her parents passed a secret look that made her mom blush; her dad's hand on her mom's bottom meant he loved her in a different way than he loved his children; and when her dad kissed her mom, she knew it was passion—she had looked up the word's definition once.

She knew when Aunt Catherine came once a year, bringing gifts for everyone; she paid extra attention to Eli in very subtle ways. Bizzy knew her dad called a lady twice a year and talked about Zoë and Alison, then he would hold one of his daughters and read rhyming stories from his thick Shakespeare book. She had looked at photos and asked questions until her dad chuckled and told her she was too much like her mother.

This trip to the city was the cause of her mother's recent worry—no, she corrected. Her mom loved the city—it was the lady they were going to meet. Eli's real mother, the one who gave birth to him was causing this unusual upset. Eli pretended he didn't care, but she knew.

One day as they played, Eli said, "Do you think I look like her?" And she said, "No, you look like Warrick." He nodded and they returned to their play. She and Eli knew how he had come to be part of this family, to be her brother. His real father was dead; his mother had gone to live in some Asian place with a tongue twisting name and Eli had become a Grissom by adoption.

Now, this woman, a stranger to all of them, wanted to meet Eli, talk to him, and their mom worried. Because her mother worried, so did Bizzy. She helped her mother, tried to keep her sisters busy and helped them pack their small bags for one night in the city. But tonight, as the three girls talked, joined by Eli and Will, Annie and Ava started to cry which caused Will to cry. She and Eli, as the oldest, were trying not to let tears fall. It was all so confusing—even when her dad said everything would be fine, even when Eli said he was happy and would never leave them. And she started to cry and failed to notice when her sister left the room.

_A/N: Yes, we've had a great trip, including meeting William Petersen and talking to him about his play! He is a very generous, kind person! A dream come true for us!!_


	3. Chapter 3

**Facing the Past: Chapter 3**

…Sara held a book but had not turned a page in fifteen minutes. She jumped when Grissom's fingers touched the top of the book.

"Honey," he closed her book and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "It's going to be fine. She wants to meet him—that's all she can do."

They shared a huge bed but slept curled together. Tonight they sat side by side as both attempted to read. Her head rested against his shoulder.

"I know. It's just—" her hand wiped her eyes. "I'm afraid, Gil. What if he decided he wants to spend time with her? What do we say?"

Grissom reached to dim the lights. "Sara, you are a great mother. Eli knows this. He may want to know more about Tina—we'll deal with it. She gave him up, signed away parental rights."

"I want him to be happy."

Grissom kissed her, caressing her arm, bringing her closer. "He'll be fine. You will be fine."

Sara brought her hand to her husband's face. After all these years, his touch fanned a warm flame deep within her. She returned his kiss, hearing a quiet groan from his chest.

"Mom? Dad?"

The beginning of a passionate groan became a growl as the kiss was broken. The young voice came as little more than a loud whisper from beyond the closed door.

Grissom said, "Come in, sweetheart." He used the same appellation for all three daughters yet the tone of the word changed for each girl.

Annie, the child Sara had worried about in her young life because she was so quiet, appeared. She was no longer quiet, but a bright, precocious image of her father, her head of curls falling around her shoulders. The child was on their bed in a few running strides across the room.

Both parents saw her tear stained face before she buried her head into her mother's shoulder.

"What's wrong?" Sara asked.

"Ava's crying too and Bizzy said we shouldn't—even though she's crying too."

Grissom's hand cradled the child's head as he asked, "What's this all about?"

Watery blue eyes met his. "Is Eli going to leave us? Will the woman take him away?"

Grissom shook free of bedcovers and got out of bed. "I'll get everyone so we can get some sleep."

He ambled out of the bedroom and headed to the next room—one filled with three beds and little girl belongings. The house had been remodeled since he and Sara had moved in—what had been adequate for a couple and one baby had become seriously crowded with five children. Yet their three daughters still shared a bedroom and the two boys were together in a smaller room. There were three empty rooms upstairs but all attempts to move anyone met resistance or lasted a few days.

He flipped on a light. "Girls," he called, "Eli, Will, everyone in our room."

The answering footsteps hurrying in his direction told him no one was sleeping. He smiled as four children filed into the bedroom. The two girls wore pastel sleep shirts printed in butterflies or faeries and the boys wore rumpled, miss-matched and faded tee shirts and pants. The older boy leaned into his dad's chest, knowing he was the cause of this late night disruption.

By the time he had wrapped an arm around Eli, the others had climbed into the bed and surrounded their mother. He had always been amazed at how his wife calmed their children. She managed to touch each one—a hand on a chin or cheek, a finger brushing a curl behind an ear. He and Eli found places as arms and legs shifted to include two more.

"Now," he said, as one child curled in his lap and another tucked next to his arm, "what is keeping everyone up so late? And what's with the weepy eyes?"

Eli, as the oldest, and trying to maintain his composure, had managed to sit with crossed legs at the feet of his parents. "It's because she wants to see me—I—I told them I wasn't going with her but Ava said she might take me away." He paused for a few seconds, his green eyes flashing. "But I won't go—she can't make me."

Sara's hand motion moved the boy from his place to one between his parents and her hand gently combed his tight curls as she kissed him above his eye. Physically, he was not her child; not born of her body, shared no genes with anyone in the bed, but he was hers, in her heart as none of the others could be. She remembered the moment of her discovery of this child—shortly after his father's death. His surprise arrival into their home seemed like yesterday, and now, his long arms and legs, his efforts to be an adult in a boy's body, caused her eyes to form tears as she saw the image of his father.

Grissom had seen the emotions play across her face; he saw four pairs of round, young eyes looking at him. He cleared his throat before speaking.

"A long time ago," he began, because ten years was a lifetime to these children, "Eli came to live with us. We adopted him—you know this. His birth mother would like to see Eli—that's all. She can't take him away because he belongs in our family." He paused as he watched the faces around him. "She wants to see him, talk to him, and, I think Eli would like to see her." He looked at the boy who was lying between he and Sara.

Eli nodded. "I think I do—I want to see what she really looks like. I want her to meet my family."

Annie spoke up as Eli finished. "She can't take him away, can she? I don't want Eli to go away."

"He won't go any where he doesn't want to go." Grissom smiled. "Now, can we get some sleep? We'll go to the city tomorrow. Your mom got us hotel reservations at a very special place. We can ride a double-deck bus and eat Chinese food. It will be fun. We might even find mom's old apartment—see if it's still there." He chuckled as the kids began to giggle. The hunt for Sara's apartment from twenty years ago was a regular game for them. The apartment had not existed for fifteen years and they knew it, but the "hunt" with frequent stops to say "this is where I kissed your mother" always brought laughter to the children.

_A/N: Thanks for reading, and for reviewing! _


	4. Chapter 4

**Facing the Past: Chapter 4**

It took more time to get children back to bed; Grissom tucked the girls into beds promising a bracelet to one and hair ribbons to the other until he got to his first child. He could never form the words, but this child was his favorite—because she was their beginning, the accidental, welcomed surprise after months of darkness. She was a good, loving, sweet-natured child. Most of all he saw his beloved wife in the happiness of their first daughter, in a childhood of peaceful, secure love that Sara had never experienced. Bizzy radiated all that was right in the world. In this child, he saw all that could be and all that should have been. He bent to kiss her—unlike her sisters, she did not ask for anything.

Tiny lines creased her forehead, and arching one delicate eyebrow, she said, "Mom is not happy, is she?"

Grissom pushed a dark curl away from Bizzy's cheek before he said, "She's worried, Sweetheart. She wants Eli to be happy."

"He's happy with us."

He smiled. "He is. I'll remind your mother."

She snuggled underneath covers. "Make Mom happy, too. She always loves going to the city."

Grissom found Sara brushing her hair. He took the brush from her hand. He would never have believed he would learn to comb hair, but he had. He could brush tangled curls into a decent ponytail for each female in his life, and the elastic bands they used seemed to be a permanent addition to his wrist.

"Eli and Will okay?" He asked.

"Yeah. You know Will—he's always happy, especially if Eli is. He was asleep before his head hit the pillow."

He brushed her hair, pulling it through his hands as he let it fall around her neck. "And Eli?"

"He's okay. I think he's more curious than anything."

He gently massaged her neck. "And Sara—how are you?"

Turning, she leaned against his shoulder. "Worried—afraid Eli's curiosity will turn into something else—afraid Tina will decide to reclaim him."

"Sara." His hands circled her body as he pulled her to him. "You worry too much. Eli is happy—we will deal with whatever develops." He kissed her, knowing her mind continued to run in worrying circles.

"I don't think I can talk to her—not with Eli."

"I can take care of that—you can take care of the others. Somehow, I think the Grissom children might be a little overwhelming to anyone. And their mother could take on Rommel single-handed."

She smiled, then kissed him, softly as a beginning but deepening as he responded. The brush dropped to the floor.

He was the only man Sara had ever loved—furiously, passionate, unyielding for so long that she no longer counted her love in days, or weeks, or even years. She knew she had loved him forever. The touch of his hands had always brought a sense of security to her life, and now, her passion flamed. His fingertips traced some invisible line from her mouth to her chest, his lips greedily following in the same path, circling her breast, lightly touching a faded scar across her abdomen. He dipped lower, applying light pressure to her inner thigh as he kissed the secret, seductive center of her intimate center.

Grissom heard her sharp intake of air as her hands raked into his hair. His touch had provided assurance to Sara but it was her scent that fired his desire. His earliest memory of her—with the exception of her obvious intellect—had been her fragrance; some mix of faint floral and citrus, of clean air and salty sea. He had tried to replicate it once, spending hours at an expensive perfume store only to have her giggle at his efforts as she held up a bar of white soap.

"I don't wear fragrance," she said. "It's just soap and water and—and how I smell!"

For years he had known when she walked into a room—he could feel, be embraced by an atmosphere of unseen, ghostly mist—some invisible cloud that he secretly referred to as "that Sara scent." After all these years of being together, all he had to do was think of her and the olfactory center of his brain kicked in with memories.

He smiled when he heard a soft moan and felt a tug of her hand. He wasn't quite ready to leave this warm, wet, welcoming cradle of desire.

When she said his name, he moved. The husky whisper of her voice propelled him upward. Eyes that had shown worry were now shining in anticipation, pupils dilated to blackness, a seductive grin across her face. She was unhurried as her hands found that part of him that belonged only to her. A slight shift of bodies brought them together.

She took his breath away; she always did. She smiled again as they kissed and held each other, legs intertwined for several moments until he began to move in the way of lovers.

The sea—why did the physical act of love bring to both thoughts of the sea, of warm living water swirling and flowing freely. Tonight, it was the calm rhythm of an outgoing tide that brought passionate release. They needed love, comfort, and security.

Sara kissed him again and again as she gained the quiet explosion of organism, of falling into a welcomed whirlpool. His was faster, following her by several seconds as he gained release in the way of men, knowing he was a fortunate man to have this woman who molded to his very life as if by divine provenance. She belonged to him as he to her.

The last flickering thought before sleep was the feel of her lips against his chest as she curled beside him in tangled sheets.


	5. Chapter 5

**Facing the Past Chapter 5**

A clear blue sky and a bright sun welcomed the family to San Francisco. The skyline of steel and glass, the arching beauty of two bridges, had changed very little in twenty years. The historic hotel at the crest of the hill was one of lavish opulence from a hundred years ago and Sara had chosen the place for what it offered—not a child's playground—but a means to offset whatever happened between Eli and the parent he did not know with the novelty and excitement of an elegant hotel. One with a telescope in the suite she had requested.

Grissom's childhood training had taught him that pride was a sin but he could not help a proud smile from forming as his children climbed out of the vehicle. Seconds before, there had been childish laughter or words about playing a game, but once outside, each child held a small bag and quietly waited for directions. Over the years, he had realized how his past work had prepared him for parenthood—creativity, honesty, confidence, and, most of all, patience. And, if he had looked backwards as he led the way into the massive lobby, he might have seen the resemblance between his children and the team he had supervised for a decade.

Sara's plan worked—the connecting rooms, selecting beds, inspecting bathrooms, and using the brass telescope created distractions and entertainment until hunger brought the children to surround the king size bed where Sara and Grissom lay.

"Can we eat Chinese?" Bizzy asked.

"Then can we look for your old apartment?" asked Will.

"And ride the cable cars?"

"No, let's ride the double deck bus first!"

"Do we have to go to bed at bedtime?"

Grissom grinned and rolled to face Sara. "I think I kissed your mother here—in this hotel." He leaned over and kissed her quickly. He heard giggles.

"Chinese!" He announced.

Sara added, "Hands and faces washed. Shoes on. We leave in ten." Children disappeared.

Grissom sighed and placed his head on her shoulder. "Can we give them money and hope they return in a few hours?"

Sara's quiet laugh and hand on his face caused him to consider hiring a babysitter.

"You know," she said, "sometimes I wish we had not had so many so quickly. There is never enough time for each one." Her fingers traced his jaw and played along his chin. "But if we had not had them quickly, we might not have had all of them." She smiled at his concerned expression. "Put your shoes on so we can take the Grissom tribe to eat." She kissed him. "And, if you play your cards right, exhaust your children, we might have a repeat of last night—here—open the drapes so we can see the city lights." Her voice had dropped into a seductive, husky whisper. He made the sound of a growl as she slipped from the bed.

The Chinese restaurant was familiar to the family and they were seated downstairs in a large dining room filled with locals—business men and women, multi-generation families, and devoid of tourists. Food was brought to tables without ordering in gleaming white bowls and platters—rice and noodles, steamed and stir-fried vegetables in a rainbow of colors, salads of cucumbers and spinach and beans, wontons, spring rolls—and passed from hand to hand with no comments of "I don't like that."

Eli and Bizzy took up chopsticks and giggled as their first efforts lost more food than made it to their mouths. When blonde, blue-eyed cherub faced Will successfully used chopsticks for his sticky rice, several adults at nearby tables applauded and called out words of encouragement.

Afterwards, they walked steep sidewalks and zigzag streets and narrow alleyways until they reached the fortune cookie factory. Another street where wrought iron balconies draped overhead brought the family to a tiny temple decorated with fiery red lanterns. Sara had taken Grissom into the jewel box building years before and almost every time they were in the city, they visited the Buddhist place of worship. The children viewed it as a museum with its statues and painting, but Grissom, as homage to a past memory, left a burning candle and money with the caretaker.

At the bay, Grissom pointed to the exact place where he and Sara had stood to have a photograph taken years ago.

"The very first time," he said and all the children knew he kept the faded original on his desk.

Will, who had wrapped arms around Sara's neck, asked—knowing the answer, "Did you love Mommy that day?"

The three girls giggled and the two boys grinned as they jostled, giggled and kissed their mother before their dad could kiss her.

Ice cream and an uphill walk served its purpose. Five children were bathed or showered and tucked into beds with few complaints in record time. Fluffy pillows, thick comforters, big beds, and foiled wrapped chocolates worked some magic for exhausted children as each drifted into sleep.

Sara emerged from her bath to find her husband waiting, his hair still damp from a shower, pulling drapes open to reveal a city of sparkling lights below the window. She had never slept in lacy nightgowns or a sexy negligee and had given up pajamas for the simple nightshirts Grissom loved—or what she wore underneath. Her arms wrapped around his chest as he attempted to fold back the white bedcovers as they rolled into the bed.

_A/N: Thanks for reading, and especially for your kind comments! Next chapter up later today--and it's night in the city, kids are asleep! Mmmmmm----_


	6. Chapter 6

_Two more chapters to this story! Enjoy--and thanks for reviews!_

**Facing the Past Chapter 6**

Their love had been formed and shaped over years of shared experiences, knowing the physical act of love was part of their happiness. There had been sadness, of course, but neither wasted energy remembering, except tonight. They could not stop some of those memories. In soft muted voices, they talked about the past—the heart breaking death of their friend and Eli's father which resulted in decisions to leave Las Vegas. They talked about friends—Catherine no longer worked as a CSI. Land deals and a building boom had made Catherine a wealthy woman as the heir to Sam Braun's fortune. Nick, they saw less of, because the quiet, gentle Texas native was now the head of the lab. He had never married, and the last time he visited, Sara had found him with tears in his eyes as he watched Eli build a small model car.

And Greg. As they talked about Greg, they both began to laugh remembering the wild and crazy boy in the lab with a crush on Sara who turned into a serious CSI. He would never leave Vegas; he would never leave his first love, even after several successful best-selling books had earned him a stash of money. Greg had married a pretty park ranger and had a baby now. He stayed on the grave shift; he visited the Grissom's regularly, and when they went to Vegas, stayed in his house where he had enough entertainment to keep five children blissfully happy for days.

Their laughter changed into passion, and very slowly with infinite gentle delays and delicate diversions, they made love, taking pleasure, opening to the other in hushed sounds. Sara was as a liquid moving through his fingers, as waves in the ocean rising all around him.

Sara framed his face with her hands, kissing him with an urgency that made him groan. She could feel his rigid desire against her thigh as his fingers dipped from her breast to play along her abdomen, finally ending in the place where she was already damp, aching for him. She twisted, moving to kiss his chest, tasting him, as she slipped lower in the bed, keeping her lips against his skin, wanting to give him the pleasure he gave to her.

"Enough," he murmured. His fingers clinched in her hair. He tugged her upward, positioning her against his hips as she tightened to his touch. She shivered from the exquisite stimulation as waves of pleasure rippled through her.

Again, Grissom thought of the times and places, in how many rooms, cabins, caves, and make-shift beds had men found this passion, this desire—believing themselves to be unique. Here, with this woman, his heart beat with hers, his life had led him to this moment. He sank against her as she stroked his hair and kissed his eyes.

Much later, half asleep, he became aware of dampness against his chest. His arm reached around his wife.

"What is it, Honey?"

"How will we be able to bear it?"

"Bear what?" he asked, confused by her question.

"This. For so short a time—we have it all and our babies will be grown and gone. How can we sleep this time away?"

In the darkness, he smiled. He could have never imagined how life unfolded. In his forties, he had been a determined loner, and now, when most men his age were playing with grandchildren, he and Sara were busy with their own family. He shifted so he could see her face, pale in the city lights.

"Once you said we could do anything—and just look at us." He teased, kissing her hand. "Five happy children—even when they fight, even when Ava stomps away in a pout or Will puts a dead frog in Bizzy's bed—you are the one who makes us happy, Sara. Your children will always be with you—always.

"Tomorrow, when Eli meets his birth mother—she will see how well he is, that he's happy. He belongs to you—not to her."

"I'm so afraid, Gil."

"Why?"

A minute passed before she spoke. "I'm afraid he will think he has to make a choice."

A quiet realization formed in his mind. "Did you ever have to make this kind of choice, Sara? When you were a child?" Over the years, they had rarely talked about her childhood in foster homes. What he knew came in quiet, unexpected minutes like this.

Her warm breath against his skin stopped for long seconds before she spoke. "I was the same age as Eli. My mother had been institutionalized for several years. I had been in one foster home after another until I was placed with an older couple—kind, compassionate to a fault. And they gave me a choice—I could go visit my mother as I had been doing or I could not. I wanted so desperately to be 'normal'—to be like everyone else." Her voice choked. Grissom held her tightly. "I stopped going. That's the choice I made.

"I didn't know how cruel it was, how self-centered I was. But I know it hurt my mother. She never said a word about all those missed visits. We became strangers; she was an embarrassment to hide."

"Oh, Sara," he whispered. So many years ago and the tormented soul of a lost child remained well hidden. To say this was not the same would do nothing to sooth her troubled thoughts. "Whatever happens, we will work through it. Eli is ours—she can't change her mind on that. And I don't think she wants him back. If Eli wants to know her, we will support him—he will not have to choose between you and Tina.

"Actually, it's good to happen now. He's curious—we will learn her intentions."

They folded together as one leaving most of the bed untouched.

_A/N: okay, cool off and leave a review! We saw Petersen's bare chest--four feet from our seats--that sight was well worth the price of a ticket and our writing does not do justice!!! :)_


	7. Chapter 7

_Enjoy! Last chapter up later today!_

**Facing the Past Chapter 7**

…By the time sunlight brighten the bed, Sara and Grissom could hear the whispers and padding feet of children. Sara's hands searched the bed.

"Where are my panties, Romeo?" She whispered. Grissom chuckled as he joined her search. How many times had they performed this blind search, he thought.

"Here," he said, and managed to slip the lime green silk over her ankles with almost as much ease as he had in removing them. He felt her quick intake of breath as his hands slowed and his fingers moved gently against her intimate cleft as a soft giggle came from her lips.

"Five children awake and waiting, Gilbert," she said as he kissed her.

He chuckled. "I know, I know—just a reminder."

He pulled on his shirt and found his pants near the bed. "Stay—I'll check on everyone and breakfast should be here soon." He knew room service was a bargain compared to getting everyone dressed and downstairs to eat.

Sara grinned as she watched him leave the room—sexy butt, she thought; she stretched and yawned as she heard the high voices greet their dad. Alone for a few minutes, more memories filled her thoughts. She had never planned to have a child, and had been surprised at the maternal feelings she had when Bizzy was born. She had been even more surprised at her husband's reaction to the birth of his daughter. Instinct or pride had triggered responses neither imagined. When Eli came, both knew it was right that Warrick Brown's child should become their son.

Loud giggles quieted as Sara watched the door ease open and two blonde curly heads appeared. She waved a hand and two blurred bodies flew across the room.

"Daddy said you were sleeping."

"But we knew you wouldn't sleep." They wiggled and squirmed to carve a space on either side of their mother.

The girls were identical to a casual observer, but she knew they were alike only in obvious ways—stout little legs, blue eyes, and pale brown hair that changed to blonde in the sun. They were alike in their love of all things girly—ribbons, bows, flashy bracelets, painted fingernails, and dresses. Sara knew all this feminine behavior had to be a throw-back to some past generation.

Ava was always smiling—almost always. Her quick temper had gotten her in trouble in the past as it would in the future, but she was quick to forgive and forget. Her sister, Annie, was more thoughtful, slower to speak and to smile with a mouth that was quick to turn downward, and her emotions were more often hidden than shown.

Now, they babbled, finishing sentences of the other, asking questions without waiting for an answer, content to share a few minutes snuggled in bed with their mother.

Bizzy appeared in the doorway, saying "Dad says to let Mom sleep," but when she saw her mother, she joined them in bed, giggling with her sisters.

Breakfast of eggs, potatoes, muffins and fruit, cereals, milk and juice arrived under dome covers and attentions of children quickly shifted to exploring the novelty of room service food.

"Eat something, Sara," Grissom pushed a muffin in her direction. She played with it, breaking it into pieces, placing a few bites in her mouth.

The children were happily eating, unwrapping heavy silverware, discovering packets and small jars of jams and honey that arrived with room service in hotels everywhere.

Standing, Grissom took Sara's hand. "Children, eat, share, be good," he said. "Your mother and I need to plan our day." He winked as he led Sara into the bedroom and closed the door. He pulled her into his arms, holding her tightly against him. It had been many years since he had seen her this way.

"I'll be fine, Gil, I will. I'm so worried about Eli—what will happen—what she will say. I don't want him hurt, Gil." She had closed her hand into a fist against his chest.

"I know, Honey, I know." He held her until she relaxed and opened her fist. "Get dressed. I'll get everyone moving. As soon as we meet Tina, you take the girls—do some girl shopping. I'll keep Will with me."

"Don't leave Eli," she said. "If she wants to talk with him, you have to be there. He's my son. I don't want him left alone." She had said this several times before today.

"I won't—promise. Eli has us, his brother and sisters. He will be fine."

"I love you."

Sara had always believed in "less is more" and her philosophy extended to her children—blue shirts and jeans for three, simple sundresses for two. These two flew around the room as pastel butterflies looking for hair ribbons and clips while Bizzy, Will, and Eli waited patiently, playing a handheld game as their sisters received last minute smoothing of their Grissom hair.

Sara and Grissom smiled as they surveyed the five individuals in front of them. Very early in Bizzy's life, Sara had become a gentle, disciplinary parent—Grissom would let them get away with anything—most of the time. Today, there was no need to explain expected behavior—even Will knew what to do.

Grissom spoke first, a prideful boast, "We have handsome boys and beautiful girls, Sara."

"Yes, we do," she said as her fingers touched a curl, grazed a cheek or a forehead before Grissom opened the door.

_A/N: One more chapter to finish up!_


	8. Chapter 8

_A/N: Sorry for the delay! Here's the last chapter--enjoy!_

**Facing the Past Chapter 8**

…Tina Brown Wang had been in Asia for a decade with her husband and two children. She had returned for brief visits—to bury a parent, a reunion with college friends—but had not sought contact with the son she had given up. Several times each year, she received an envelope or email with photos of a smiling boy often surrounded by little girls and a younger boy, of drawings, copies of school grades, and a letter from the adoptive parents.

The last photograph had shown a face from her past, the young eyes and smile of the man she had loved until they found more reasons to hate than to love. She tried to remember if she had ever loved the father of this child. They had married in a whirlwind, early one morning in a flashy chapel, laughing and kissing, calling her father who insisted on meeting them for breakfast. That had been the best day of their brief marriage.

Tina smiled at the memory before shaking her head—an effort to clear or renew memories—she wasn't sure. She paced the room, an alcove set apart from the hotel's lobby, inhabited this morning by two men reading newspapers. She was not sure why she had requested this meeting other than the convenience of being in this city, of being curious, to see if the child of one night's make-up sex was familiar to her.

She frowned slightly at a disturbing memory. She and Warrick had already parted; she was dating a young physician, wanted to marry him. When Warrick showed up, those green eyes sparkling, that smile coaxing her into bed, she did not object. The doctor was forgotten that day as love or lust or magic dust put them together.

A few weeks later, she was pregnant, and for nine months, she wished, she hoped, even prayed, that the baby would look like her or the young doctor. He didn't. The doctor left.

A few months later, an upcoming attorney her father knew contacted Warrick for child support. She was stunned when the request was met with a custody demand; an all out fight for the child became a world war battle until Warrick died. She met Gil Grissom, a kind, gracious, generous man who asked few questions as financial guardian as he approved requests for money.

And the young attorney kept calling her, took her on dates, and eventually slept with her. One day, he suggested marriage but she did not love him—not yet, she said. She had a child to raise; left unsaid was the knowledge that he did not want, could not love another man's child, especially one with the eyes of his dead father.

When the lawyer announced he was moving to Asia, he also asked for a long-term commitment. "I need a wife," he said.

Tina got another attorney to contact Dr. Grissom for a meeting and she handed Eli to him as she walked away. Since then, her life had been good. She knew she had done the right thing—gone on living, loved her husband, had a happy family. This meeting was one of curiosity, not love. She paced again. She had no intentions or plans after meeting the boy, or any idea what she would say to him.

Behind her, she heard someone clear a throat and she turned. Two adults stood behind five children she recognized from photographs. The man had scarcely aged in a decade; the woman was prettier than she remembered.

Of course, she recognized Eli. One hand was on the shoulder of the small boy, the other was firmly intertwined with Sara's. Only when Grissom stepped forward did the boy drop his mother's hand and move in her direction. Briefly, she took the man's hand as he said hello and turned to Eli.

"Hello, I'm Eli Grissom."

Tina murmured a brief hello to each as Eli turned to his mother and the other children. "This is my mom, Sara. My sisters and brother." And said each name as the girls shook her hand but Will turned a suddenly shy face against his dad's leg. Quickly, as introductions finished, Sara and the girls left the room. Several stumbling attempts were made in trying to start a conversation until Grissom asked if she had any questions for Eli.

"Are you happy?" She asked.

His broad grin and laughing eyes answered before he said, "Yes, I am." She asked about school, sports, special interests. Eli was polite, giving answers, even though brief ones, until he began to describe his love of automobiles, and how he and his dad were working to restore an old car. His frequent glances at Grissom gave him encouragement to talk about their current pursuit. He seemed not to notice the subtle change as Tina nodded several times as he talked, smiled, and relaxed with his dad's hand on his shoulder.

She meant nothing to this child, she thought. Perhaps it had been wrong to come, to ask for a meeting. As Eli finished talking about the car, she leaned forward and took his hand.

"Thank you, Eli, for meeting me. You are as handsome as your father—and you have a wonderful family." She nodded toward the large lobby. "I believe your mom and sisters are waiting for you."

Eli turned to his dad. "Can Will and I go? We can catch up with Mom."

Grissom could see Sara and his daughters across the lobby, window shopping in front of a glittering jewelry case. He smiled. "Go."

He asked Tina if there were other questions, did she need anything. She shook his hand. "Should he ever want to meet again, let me know. He's your son—not mine."

Sara looked up from the display of the gaudy, flashy jewelry her daughters were admiring. Eli and Will were hurrying in her direction, both smiling and laughing at some shared comment. She was startled—unsure what their arrival meant. Behind them, she saw Tina and Grissom, a handshake, a wave in her direction, and Tina disappeared out the door.

Eli saw the concern on Sara's face. He knew she had worried, had some adult fear that he could not name. He broadened his grin.

"Can we ride the double decker bus now?" He asked.

"You talked?"

"I did. I told her I was happy—she wasn't interested in cars." He smiled, leaned against her and wrapped an arm around her waist, saying, "You are my mom, not her."

Grissom arrived in time to hear his words. His hand caressed Sara's back and he gently kissed her.

"Let's go find that goofy bus," he said.

_The End! Thanks for reading (and your reviews are always appreciated)! Another one in the works!_


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